


Blue Eyes

by eviltimes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Banter, Emotions, F/F, Fluff, Hogwarts Eighth Year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:15:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24169468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eviltimes/pseuds/eviltimes
Summary: Hermione has gotten into her dream school, the only problem is she can't find a flat. Luna offers that Hermione stay with her. The two are complete opposites, but soon enough Hermione starts to develop feelings
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger/Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 11
Kudos: 33





	1. Crying In The Library

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everybody, this is my first fic ever and I hope you like it. I kind of based it on my experience liking girls, where it slowly shifted from friend to mini crush. Im rlly shit at writing consistently but I do want to add a second part to this at some point.   
> Also thank you to everyone who has commented, it honestly makes me so happy and always inspires me to keep writing.

“What's wrong?”

Hermione glanced up from her essay to see who had spoken. It wasn’t often people dared interrupt her studying, and in the library no less. It was Luna, looking ethereal as always, her white hair almost generating its own light in the dim library. Her eyes were a brilliant blue, and even through her smudged and dirty glasses it seemed as though Luna could see things Hermione couldn’t. She had just been charming and a strand of her hair had caught some magic. It had escaped from Luna’s bun and was twisting gracefully in the air, changing colours as it defied gravity. Blue, to orange, to yellow, to purple. Hermione realized she’d been staring. 

“Oh nothing’s wrong, Luna.” she said, and smiled, hoping that would make her go away.

“Don’t be silly Hermione, it’s clear that something's wrong. I mean just look at the state of your aura.”

“My  _ aur _ \- No, honestly, Luna I'm fine.”

“Alright Hermione.” But Luna didn’t go away. She moved some books off of the chair next to Hermione, and sat down. Hermione looked away and continued her potions essay. Maybe if she just ignored Luna, she would go away. But Luna didn’t. Hermione got through three more paragraphs on the drawbacks of bezoar based potions, Luna sitting next to her the entire time. 

“Tincture of Starnettle.”

Hermione looked up.

“What?” she said.

“Well you paused. Like you couldn’t think of the name. Tincture of Starnettle”

“What?” Hermione said again.

“In your essay. Tincture of Starnettle can, if taken consistently, alleviate sore and/or itchiness of the throat caused by bezoar abrasions.” Though Luna was talking to Hermione she didn’t really seem to be paying attention to her. Or anything at all really. Her eyes were closed and she was swaying slightly. She still hadn’t fixed that charmed strand of hair. Hermione watched it change colours. Green, pink, blue, green again.

“Hermione. Tell me what's wrong,” said Luna.

Hermione snapped her eyes away from the chromatic strand of hair. All of a sudden Luna seemed perfectly focused. Her eyes were trained on Hermione and she wasn’t swaying anymore. In fact, she wasn’t moving at all. Even her magicked hair stilled. It stopped pirouetting and wasn’t even changing colours. It stayed a solid, serious maroon.

“Fine,” said Hermione. “I’ve been accepted into the Lower Oxford Academy for Future Healers.” Luna sat expectantly, waiting for the bad part. “It’s just… I don’t think I’ll be able to go. So. Yeah. It’s nothing. I really need to finish this essay.” Hermione’s voice quavered on the word essay and she stabbed her quill into the inkpot, causing small splashes of ink to scatter across her assignment. Luna sat still, saying nothing.

“I mean, you know, never mind that Lower Oxford is the best healing academy in all of Europe and never mind that healing is all I’ve wanted to do ever since the war and never _ mind _ ,” she stabbed to quill into the inkpot once more as bluish stain splashed up onto her palm and fingers, “nevermind that I’ve been studying my ass off just to get admitted. But what can you do? If there are no flats there are no flats.” As Hermione finished speaking the library fell silent once again, punctuated only by the agitated scratches of her quill against parchment as she threw herself back into her work. Luna let her write for a moment, before taking Hermione’s ink covered hand in her own. Hermione took a shaky breath. 

“H-How am I supposed to go to school if there’s nowhere for me to live? My parent’s flat is entirely too far away, but I can hardly afford to rent my  _ own _ . I don’t have a job, and even if I did, I’ll never be able to work  _ while _ I'm going to school -everyone I’ve talked to says there’s barely enough time to sleep, let alone work. My parents are in no position to help me. They’re still at St Mungos recovering from th-their  _ thing _ -although I guess that’s my own stupid fault. Note to self Hermione: Don’t alter your parents' memories when you need to use their money to go to college.” Hermione rocked back and forth, her hand shaking in Luna’s, her breathing uneven.

“Hermione.” She felt Luna squeeze her hand, the dark ink from her hand spreading onto Luna’s palm. 

“Hey, Hey, you’ll be ok.” Luna said. Hermione continued to rock in her seat and felt tears tracking down her face. Luna gave her hand another squeeze, and smiled. 

“Hey, you cry as long as you need, and then I’ll tell you why you’re gonna be ok.”

The two sat in silence for a while, holding hands, blue smudges all over their fingers. The tears on Hermione's face dried a bit, as did the ink on her essay. She took a breath and looked to Luna, her eyes still a bit red.

“Tell me why I’m going to be ok.” 

“You may not have a flat for next year, but I do. I’m taking an apprenticeship at an apothecary, and it’s near to the Lower Oxford school. I’m going to live in my aunt’s old flat. You can come stay with me”

“Oh.” Hermione looked into Luna’s eyes, blue and bright and kind. The strand of hair, last a serious maroon, was now a striking sapphire to match her eyes. 

“I guess you’re right then,” Hermione said, “I am going to be okay.” Luna smiled, and gave her hand another squeeze. Hermione smiled back at Luna, and gave a squeeze in reply.

The two sat there for a little while longer. Luna was swaying slightly again, and her charmed section of hair resumed changing colours, although less rapidly - it appeared to be tiring. Navy. Green. Purple. Pink. It seemed to have settled on pink. Pink suited Luna. Hermione could imagine her dying her hair pink.

“Are you ok now?” Luna asked.

“Oh. Yes.”

“Good.” Luna stood up to leave, then leaned in for a hug. Hermione was surprised to find she accepted the hug. And even hugged back. She wasn’t usually a hugging person. It was nice in Luna’s arms though. Friendly. Comfortable. Safe. The pink hair floated towards Hermione’s face, and rested across the bridge of her nose. As Luna pulled away she caught a glance of it. 

“Oh! How long has that been pink?” She laughed and waved her wand and the colour lifted from the hair, leaving it blonde again. “Bye Hermione,” she said and walked away, humming to herself.

Hermione felt slightly disappointed, though she wasn’t sure why.


	2. Weasel Fur

Hermione rushed into potions, and was almost late, sitting down just as the professor walked through the door. Draco sat across from her, next to Harry, who had only barely qualified for eighth year potions -and even that had been with loads of help from her and Draco. It was only first period and the two were already arguing. Harry and Draco had only been together a couple of months but they bickered like a married couple of 40 years.

“Potter for the last time, why would the recipe call for WEASEL FUR?!”

“I don’t know, but I'm telling you that that is  _ not _ a K, definitely a W.”

“Yes, and which one of us needs glasses to see farther than an arm's length ahead? I’m telling you if you put weasel fur in our potion it will blow up!”

“OK but- Oh hey Hermione,” Harry said, catching sight of her, looking relieved, “Look will you tell him that that definitely says weasel.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Don’t be stupid, of course it doesn’t call for weasel fur.” She began taking out ingredients. “That would blow up your potion.”

“ _ Thank _ you,” Draco said. Harry made a hmph sound. 

“Oh! Hey Granger, now you’re here we wanted to ask you something,” Draco said. “We heard you’re moving in with Luna when you leave school.”

Hermione glared at him. She hated people being in her business. Unfortunately, Draco was well immune to glares. “Yes, not that it’s any of your business,” she replied, “Who told you anyway?”

“Ginny,” Harry said, “Why? You hate Luna, and how come you didn’t tell me about it?”

“I don’t-”

“Does Ron know?”

Draco grinned, “Oh, I hope he doesn’t yet - I don't want to miss the shit storm.”

“Draco!” Harry scolded.

“Sorry Harry - but there will be a shit storm, and I will not be missing it.”

Hermione had had enough.

“I’m doing it because I need a place to live, I didn’t tell you because - Oh I don’t know, I promise I was going to - And no. Ron doesn’t know. And I don’t really  _ hate _ Luna, she can be quite nice actually.” At this Hermione looked down at the faint ink stain on her hand from yesterday. “Any other questions?”

“Yes,” Draco said. “Can you wait until I’m around to tell him? I want to see how red his ears will get. Look I even have a scientific scale to measure it,” Draco held up a sheet of red paint samples and grinned, “I think he’ll reach at least Viking Red _. _ ”

Harry leaned over to get a closer look at the array of red paint chips Draco was holding. 

“I dunno,” he said, “I’ve never seen him get past Strawberry, or it could be Heartthrob? ”

“Heartthrob, Potter? Really? That’s not even a red, it’s a coral.”

“What’s the difference?”

“ _ What's the difference? _ Potter, don't tell me that you don’t know the difference between a red and a coral.”

“Will you two shut up?” Hermione said, “Besides, I don't see why me telling him is such a big deal. We’re broken up.”

The three were quiet for a second and Harry looked at her. 

“Sorry,” he said. She sighed. A loud bang went off suddenly and Hermione looked over to see an explosion had gone off in their cauldron, setting off Harry and Draco’s bickering again.

“Harry I  _ told _ you not to add Weasel fur!”

“I didn’t! I mean, I don’t think I did?”

“Oh for the love of Merlin!”


	3. Wrackspurts & Humdingers

“So Luna’s good enough for you but  _ I’m _ not?!” Ron yelled. 

Hermione had figured that they would probably have to talk about it at some point, but she had hoped that it wouldn’t be in the common room in front of everyone. Harry and Draco were sitting together on the couch watching them with vivid concentration, as if it were a movie. Some other eighth years were studying at a table across the room, also staring. Harry looked uncomfortable watching his two friends yell at each other.

“What is  _ wrong _ with you Ron? Not everything is about you. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I’m moving in with Luna because I need a place to live, not because I’m secretly lovestruck?!” The word caught in Hermione’s throat.

“Well I can’t think of any other reason you can put up with her all of a sudden,” He replied, his ears practically purple with indignation. 

“Oh please! You’re just still mad that I dumped you for being a jealous, irritating, asshole. Which, by the way, was FOUR WHOLE MONTHS AGO and you’re still not over it!”

“What was it you used to say about her? ‘Loony Lovegood, her only friends are wrackspurts and blibbering humdiggers’ and now you’re bloody moving in together! What’s with the sudden change of heart?”

Hermione glared at Ron, who glared right back. That was when she caught sight of a pair of very smudged owl eyed glasses. Luna stood in the doorway behind Ron, and had been standing there for a little while now.

“Luna, I didn’t, I-” 

Hermione stopped, unsure what to say. She moved past Ron to look Luna in the eyes -and oh those eyes. Blue like the sky. Like gems. Like the lake on a clear day. That was the colour of smiles, of buttered popcorn. Of kissing a girl in the rain. They shone through her glasses, dusty and scratched, and caught Hermione’s eyes, which were in turn warm and brown and worried. But Luna’s eyes weren’t kind today. Today they were tired. And angry.

“I wouldn’t say that wrackspurts are my friends,” she said quietly. “Honestly they’re rather a nuisance.”

“Luna I didn’t-”

“I do like dirigible faeries though, which are cousins to the wrackspurt, so I suppose that counts.” Still her voice was quiet but her tone was like steel.

“I’m sorry Luna.” 

“And not that you would care very much, but it’s Blibbering Hum _ dinger _ not Blibbering Hum _ digger _ .” This time Luna’s words were spiked with little sharp pieces of anger. 

Hermione felt her emotions build inside of her, curdling and sitting in her stomach as they often did. She didn’t want to lose Luna but she didn’t know what to do. This was all so fucking complicated.

Seconds passed in silence. Luna seemed to be done talking, and Hermione felt utterly lost for words. Luna continued to stand in the doorway, swaying a bit as she often did, but her blue eyes stayed true to Hermione. Abruptly, she turned to leave.

Hermione watched her go, her silver hair swaying, her untied shoelaces trailing behind her. She noticed they were two different colours, one pink and one blue. Hermione turned back to Ron, who was still red and angry. 

“Yeah. Sure. Definitely not lovestruck,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He stormed past Hermione and up the stairs to the boys' dorms.

She stood there for a moment, those curdled emotions swishing in her stomach. Eventually she decided to leave, and could hear Harry and Draco whispering as she walked out.

“What in the name of Merlin’s man bun just happened?”

“I don’t know, but that was way past Viking Red.”


	4. Lavender

Hermione was standing outside Luna’s dormitory in the Ravenclaw tower. She had answered the door’s riddle easily enough and it wasn’t hard to find the right dorm. In her hand was a bunch of lavender, as well as a bee sting on her wrist (the cost of the flowers). She knew that lavender was Luna’s favourite flower, although she couldn’t quite tell you how she knew that. That was the thing about Hermione. Her brain would just keep little pieces of important information and they would be there when she needed them. Her brain had decided that Luna’s favourite flower was an important piece of information, and here it was when she needed it.

Before she could knock the door opened abruptly, revealing Luna on the other side.

“I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, but then you kind of just stood here. Which was strange. Because usually footsteps either come in or go back down. So, I opened the door. And here you are.” Luna’s eyes were a little kinder this morning.

“Right.”

They were silent for a moment. Hermione wasn’t very good at talking about apologies and feelings. Especially not her own. Luna was the one to break the silence.

“Um. Lavender.”

“Yes. That’s, it’s for you, and, it’s, well, you like it, I think.” Hermione held out the little purple flowers for her to take. Despite herself, Luna smiled at Hermione’s jumble of words and took the flowers. Silence fell again. Hermione took a breath, intending to be the one to break it this time. 

“Luna. It means a lot to me what you did in the library, and I wanted to say I’m sorry for what I’ve said in the past. I hope-”

“Hermione.”

“What?”

Luna reached out for Hermione’s hand. Hermione took it, smiling at the memory of ink long gone off both of their fingers.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. I’ve always been teased. I’m strange. We both know that. But since the war, it hasn’t really happened. I guess people were reminded that there are more important things than making fun of the odd person out. Yesterday just made me remember all of the things that people used to say about me. With other people I don’t really mind but … It wasn’t fun thinking about you saying those things.” For the third time now, silence fell. But this was a comfortable one. 

“I'm really sorry,” Hermione said.

“I’m really sorry too.”

The two embraced, the bunch of lavender pressed in their hug. Hermione let herself get lost in the sensation of hugging Luna. Her robes, soft and clean, pressed against her cheek, Luna’s hair falling like a curtain around them. And the smell of the lavender, it’s small purple buds pressing into her heart. 

The two girls stayed in that doorway for a while. Both content just to be in the other’s arms. 


End file.
